


If You Want Me

by Annabeth_Crestfallen_LeMorte



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Explicit Sexual Content, Hallucinations, Implied Torture, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Other, Psychological Torture, Psychological Trauma, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-04
Updated: 2012-09-04
Packaged: 2017-11-13 13:07:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/503853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annabeth_Crestfallen_LeMorte/pseuds/Annabeth_Crestfallen_LeMorte
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
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  <p><br/>Written to FILL the <a href="http://dc-dystopia.livejournal.com/31382.html?thread=313494#t313494%20>"> PROMPT: DEAN/CASTIEL: TORTURE, DRUGS, HALLUCINATIONS</a> left by <a href="http://dauntperplexity.livejournal.com/%0A"> DAUNTPERPLEXITY. </a> </p>
  <p>"Someone has Cas and has had him for some time.  They have already made him denounce God. Now, all they have to do is make him denounce Dean, by any means necessary.  Up to the author whether Dean and Cas are in a relationship prior to this. Also, up to the author if Cas is saved by Dean or not."</p>
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	If You Want Me

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine, they remain the property of their respective owners. I'm just borrowing them to play for a little bit. All the stories are done for fun, not profit.
> 
> Note: Title and opening quote borrowed from the [song by Marketa Inglova and Glen Hansard](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nP8no58Mr-I)

~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~

_“Are you really here or am I dreaming_

_I can’t tell dreams from truth_

_For it’s been so long since I have seen you_

_I can hardly remember your face anymore”_

 

~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~

“You do realize that no one’s coming to rescue you?”

The voice is back, only Castiel doesn’t know if he’s imagining it or if this time the owner of the voice is actually there.  There have been several instances that he’s carried on a conversation with himself.  In fact, most days he can’t tell what’s real anymore and if he’s honest with himself, it stopped mattering to him some time ago.

He’s lost track of how many days he’s been held captive.  In the beginning the angel had monitored the number of days using the sunlight that somehow managed to make it into his prison.  Then the torture had begun and he’d drifted in and out of consciousness so often that it made the passage of time difficult to ascertain.  Now, even the meager sunlight couldn’t overpower the darkness in his days.

“He’ll come for me.”  Castiel’s response is barely a whisper, his throat ravaged from countless hours of screaming. 

The day had begun with the usual taunts, but quickly escalated into another torture session.  At first, he’d been able to keep from screaming when the ball peen hammer was used to start breaking his fingers, one knuckle at a time.  It had taken three knuckles before he’d attempted to pull away, for all the good it did him.  The voice had taken the time to pin him down using two Angel Blades, one through each palm.  Searing white heat had raced up his arms; Castiel had started screaming and once that happened, he hadn’t been able to stop.  It was nearly three hours later before he was alone again, the Angel Blades having been removed and carelessly tossed just out of his reach.

The voice laughs, dark and deep, “Do you really believe that?  How many times has that puny human disappointed you?” 

The muted sound of footfalls echo through the room and Castiel is finally sure he’s not hallucinating; not this time anyway.  His forehead lifts from where it’s been resting against his thighs and turns towards the sound, just in time to feel the small rush of air immediately preceding the slap.  The angel doesn’t have time to react before he’s knocked over by the subsequent backhand.  Instinctively, his hands come up to break his fall.  The instant both desecrated hands impact the concrete floor, a harsh scream breaks from between his clenched lips and reverberates within the chamber. Castiel collapses, rolling onto his side and cradles them against his belly, the warmth of fresh blood quickly soaking through the already filthy undershirt.

“Even if he did come for you, there’s no way he’d ever look at you the same way.”  The voice is close; his tormenter must be just outside the closest ring of Holy Fire.  “You’re weak, Castiel…allowing yourself to be taken, to be tricked so easily.  Did you actually believe that Dean would propose?  The Righteous Man marrying an impotent, tainted angel?  You are nothing but a dalliance to pass the time, a means to an end, a…series of holes to fill, nothing more.” 

That cruel laughter taunts him and it takes an inordinate amount of determination to growl out a reply, “He WILL come for me!”

“Yes, yes!  Dean Winchester will ride in on his trusty steed, rescuing the poor Princess Castiel and they will live happily ever after.  Amen.”

Before Cas realizes what’s happening, a hand is wrapped around his wrist.  It starts pulling him outwards, towards the boundary of his prison.  He struggles to pull away, to keep his hand from coming near the fire surrounding him, but the poison coursing throughout his body is a hindrance.  Head shaking, he’s begging without realizing it, “No, no…please!  No…don’t!  Please, I beg of you…Nooooo!” 

The second his hand comes in contact with the Holy Fire, Castiel arches up off the floor in pain.  Blinding agony overcomes him and his body does the only thing it can to protect him: it shuts down.  Oblivion overtakes him; Dean’s name the last coherent thought before slipping into blessed unconsciousness. 

~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~

_“You know I love you right?”_

_The hunter grins down at him and Castiel can’t help but smile back, “Of course I do, Dean.  I have always known.”_

_Dean laughs and presses a kiss to his already swollen lips, “You’re such a smartass. Did you know that too?”  The words are teasing and spoken between small bites to Castiel’s jawline._

_The angel’s tongue darts out to wet his lips and he takes a breath before whispering, “I am aware of the fact.  I’ve been told it is part of my charm.”_

_His charge’s laughter is muffled against his neck; the feel of Dean licking a line up the column of his throat makes all rational thought flee instantly.  The next words are spoken softly against his ear, “Is that so?  Part of your charm…who told you that, angel?”_

_Castiel reaches up and fists his hand in the short hair at the nape of Dean’s neck, “You did, hunter.”  His lover’s eyes flare with desire at the growly timbre that has slipped into his voice.  Surprise registers briefly on the other man's face when their positions are suddenly reversed, “The first time you fucked me, remember?”_

_Dean grins and nods, “Oh yea…forgot about that.”  Pointedly  he peers up to where both wrists are now being invisibly pinned to the bed, “No fair using powers, baby.”_

_“Oh?  I didn’t hear you complaining last night as I gave you a...what did you call it?  Oh yes, a ‘celestial blow job’ while kissing you, sucking BOTH nipples AND fingering your ass.  All at the same time, remember?”  The words are spoken against the skin of his human’s belly._

_Dean sucks in a harsh breath and squirms. Castiel swirls his tongue over the skin muscled skin surrounding his lover’s navel, “Well that was different.”  Castiel ignores the comment, he’s too busy nosing Dean’s t-shirt up towards his chest.  “I mean, it’s not like I asked you to…oh sweet Jesus!”_

_Dean arches up into him as Castiel’s mouth envelopes a taut nipple, the blasphemy uttered breathlessly.  A small warning bite pulls a soft hiss from the hunter with an apology immediately succeeding it, “Sorry!  I couldn’t stop…oOOMMmm!”_

_The shirt’s gone in the blink of an eye and Cas is now teasing the line of Dean’s erection with his teeth through the denim of the hunter's jeans.  He glances up at his lover and gives him a warm smile before playfully mocking, “Are you meditating up there, human?”_

_A blush steals over Dean’s cheeks and he attempts to hide his face into his own shoulder, “Cas…don’t tease me.”  Castiel thumbs the jeans open almost casually as Dean lifts up to watch him tongue around the pull-tab of the zipper.  The view wrings a moan out of the green-eyed man before he’s on the receiving end of Dean’s pleading, “Please, baby, let me touch you.  I need to.”_

_Castiel chuckles softly as he slowly lowers the zipper using only his teeth, shaking his head in response.  A slight flex of his mind and invisible fingers begin to pull the denim apart, tugging the jeans and underwear down over slim hips only to leave them tangled around Dean’s knees._

_“You’re not an angel.  You’re the devil in disguise.”_

_Castiel tongues around the crown of Dean’s leaking cock and smirks.  Wrapping his lips around that flushed tip causes the man under him to writhe and mutter softly in Enochian, the words causing his heart to swell as he does his best to comply._

~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~

Castiel startles back to awareness and a silent sob escapes him, the dream still fresh in his mind.  He’s alone again; the only sound in the room is a distant drip-drip-drip of water.  It’s becoming harder and harder to distinguish dream from reality, denigrations from truth and memory from hallucination.  He thinks back to the last clear memory he’s sure of since his capture.

~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~

_First thing he’d noticed upon awakening in captivity? The four concentric rings of Holy Fire: each one approximately four feet smaller in diameter than the next, ending with the one he was in; diameter about eight feet across. Second thing Castiel noticed was that multitude of Enochian sigils on the walls, ceiling and floor around him._

_He hadn’t been restrained, but felt light-headed and disoriented. Upon inspection of his body, Castiel had found distinct puncture marks on the inside of both his elbows. Faint black lines radiated outwards up towards his shoulders and down towards his hands. The puncture marks and lines are long since gone. So are the multitude of other wounds he’s endured during his incarceration._

~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~

Carefully sitting up, Castiel brings a trembling hand up to his face, flinching back as the smell of burnt flesh assaults his nose.  Concentration focused, he begins to take stock of his injuries.  He flexes both hands cautiously and is pleasantly surprised when they obey.  The previously fractured fingers are obviously healed.  Further investigation proves they’re relatively straight as well.  The tip of his right index finger brushes over the center of his left palm and a he’s blissfully happy to realize his palm is whole once more; a quick check confirms that his right one is unharmed as well.  Currently his only injuries are his burns…and his eyes.

Fourteen days into his incarceration, Castiel’s eyes had been carved out with one of the Angel Blades, his captor blithely mentioning that he’d make sure the elder Winchester would receive them, ‘all wrapped in a pretty blue bow.’  He didn’t know if kidnapper had followed through on his promise and if the angel was honest with himself, he didn’t want to know badly enough to ask.

“You’re awake!”  The voice comes to him from somewhere across the room and Castiel startles, “you were asleep for so long, I thought maybe I’d killed you…and that just won’t do, will it?”

“Does it matter what I think?”  His biting remark is out before Castiel can stop it and he winces inwardly, knowing he’ll probably pay for the insolence.  It takes a moment for it to register in his mind that his voice is back to normal as well.  “How long was I asleep?”

“Four days,” comes the flippant answer.  “I was getting rather bored, actually.  What were you dreaming about, Angel?”

Castiel presses his lips together at the epithet and shakes his head, “It doesn’t matter.  It was just a dream.”

The soft tut of disapproval is close by, “It may not matter, but I still want to know.”

“Why?  So you can use that against me as well??”  Castiel’s only solace is his dreams…or are they memories?  He doesn’t know anymore.  All he knows is, so far, the only safe place is his mind.

“Simple curiosity.  You were making some rather non-angelic noises as you dreamt and I want you to tell me why.  Now, what…were you… dreaming…about?  Don’t make me ask you again.”

The threat is blatantly obvious in the tone of voice and Castiel sighs before answering, “I was dreaming of Dean.”

There’s a small chuckle and then, “That much I had figured out.  What were you and Dean doing, Angel?”

“Don’t call me that,” he grits out between his teeth, quickly amending to add, “please!”

“Very well, Castiel.  Tell me what you were doing and I’ll not call you ‘angel’ again.”  He lifts his head up as if to look at his captor and Cas could swear the man (?) is currently standing inside the same ring of Holy Fire that he is.  With a tilt of his head, he tries to listen to see if his warden will give him a clue as to just how close he’s (?) standing.  When the voice speaks again, it is once again originating from across the room, “I’m waiting, Angel.”

Castiel hangs his head down once more and whispers, voice cracking, “I was dreaming of engaging in sexual relations with Dean.”

“Naughty boy…didn’t anyone ever tell you that you could go to Hell for such behavior?”

“Isn’t that where I am?!  My own private version of Hell?” Castiel shouts at his assailant, face twisted in anger. His hands curl into fists, oblivious to the pain. 

Laughter rings out through the chamber, “This isn’t Hell, far from it.  Although, it has been confused for hell many times throughout history.”

“Tell me what you want and I’ll do it.  I’ll do anything, just…please stop.  I can’t take anymore.”  Castiel’s voice is tired, his spirit is broken, all hope nearly extinguished.  It’s been so long since he’s seen the things that matter most to him.  Dean’s face is blurring in his mind and it frightens him that maybe the hunter’s lifetime has passed while he’s been in this prison.

“I’ve told you, Castiel.  The first part is already done…you’ve denounced your God, why should one man be so different, righteous or not?”

A tiny sob slips past his lips and he brokenly whispers, “Because I love him!”

“Come now, Castiel…did you not love your God as well?”  The voice is mocking and cruel.

“Dean has never forsaken me!”  His voice is stronger than it’s been in a very long time.  He practically spits the next words out at his attacker, “I will NEVER denounce him!  You might as well take that Angel Blade and kill me, because my answer will never change!  I love him and I’ll always love him, now and forever!”

~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~

_“Love how responsive you are, angel.”  Castiel arches up, both hand fisted in the sheets beneath him as Dean licks a stripe up the side of his dick, “it’s such a power trip; one of God’s angels laid bare beneath me, doing what I tell him to do.”_

_“Why do you insist on blasphemy during every single sexual encounter?  Do you not know how hard it is for me to focus when you say-“_

_“Oh, I know how hard it is,” Dean whispers teasingly, hand squeezing around Castiel’s shaft as he speaks, “it’s very hard.  Just how I like it.”_

_“Deannn,” the admonishment is breathless and dies the second the hunter’s lips are gliding over the swollen tip of Castiel’s erection.  It takes all his willpower to not thrust up into the welcome heat of his beloved’s mouth._

_One of Dean’s hands is splayed over his belly; head bobbing up and down in a slow, measured rhythm.  Cas lifts his head to gaze down at his hunter and moans when his eyes lock onto Dean’s.  The elder Winchester is looking up as he fellates him, his green eyes blazing hotly._

_“Dean!”  Castiel gasps when the entirety of his member is engulfed.  Dean swallows around him and he screams, “DEAN!”_

~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~

“Cas?”

Cas snaps awake, the faint whisper of the nickname a shock to his system after so long without hearing it.  He’s almost afraid to call out, “Dean?”

“Cas!  I’m coming!  Keep talking and I’ll find you.”

He yells out at his attacker, “NO!  It’s another one of your tricks!  I won’t fall for it again!  Just kill me!  Kill me and leave the Winchesters alone!”

“Castiel don’t you dare…I’m coming!”  Dean’s voice is breathless and getting louder, the sound of running footsteps getting closer and closer.

The angel curls into a fetal position and cries soundlessly, hands coming up to cover both ears, head shaking violently back and forth in denial.  His words tumbling over themselves almost inaudibly, “you’re not real, you’re not real, you’re not real.”

“What the hell?”  Dean’s voice is now inside the room with Cas and he feels his heart twist painfully when that beloved voice murmurs in surprise at his surroundings, “Sammy, take the fire extinguisher, put the fires out.”  Castiel is still repeating his litany of ‘you’re not real’ when the elder Winchester says his name again, closer this time, “Cas!  Listen to me!  I’m right here!  I’m right here, buddy.  Focus on my voice and listen, please.”

Cas’ body wracks with sobs at the endearment, this particular torture the worst of all.  Hearing that voice whisper to him in a seemingly caring manner breaks his heart every single time.  He whispers beseechingly, “Please just kill me.  I can’t take any more, please.”

“Castiel!”  Rough hands pull him up into a sitting position and he struggles to get free, fist striking someone’s arm.  “Cas!  It’s ME!”  The hands are unexpectedly framing his face and oh, sweet Heaven, it smells just like him.

His voice is defeated and tear-logged, “you’re not real.”

“Shhh, Cas…I’m real.  I’m right here, see?”  Dean takes one of his hands and holds it against a stubble-covered cheek, forehead centimeters from his own.  “Right here, all up in your personal space, angel.”

Castiel flinches back and hisses, “I told you not to call me that!”  He manages to pull away, retreating from the voice, on his hands and knees, blinking sightlessly as he does.  The realization that the Holy Fires have been extinguished doesn’t register until he blindly collides with a table and chair.

“Dean, do something!”  Castiel flinches from the second voice, trying to decide which way to go.

“I’m trying, Sammy!  I don’t know what else to do!”

The brothers are whispering urgently to one another and Castiel keeps track of the their voices as he moves further away.  He takes advantage of their conversation to stand up and slowly start feeling his way along the wall, looking for a way out.

“Tell me again, exactly what you said before he disappeared.”

Castiel hears Dean clear his throat and mutter under his breath, “I told him to prove just how much he loved me.”

“Dude, seriously?”  Sam’s voice is incredulous and if Cas didn’t know better, he’d swear it was actually the Winchesters in the room with him.  “Um, your angel’s getting away.”

“Cas, stop!” 

Hurried footsteps come closer and hands once again manhandle him to face his ‘rescuer.’ Castiel lifts both hands up and shouts, “You know what, ‘Dean’…blow me!”

Laughter fills the room but it’s not the same as before, “Maybe later when you’re cleaned up, baby, but how about we get you home first?”  The voice is teasing, making Castiel suck in a breath.

“DEAN!”  Sam’s voice is shocked and definitely not amused.

“Hey, Cas…it’s us.  Just open your eyes; let’s see those gorgeous blue eyes.  Come on.”

Castiel presses his eyes shut, hot tears squeezing out.  He attempts to extricate himself from Dean’s hands and fails, frustration making more tears to stream down his face.  Any second now the hallucination would end and he’d-

Cold droplets of water splash his face three times and then something is smeared on his forehead.  Instantaneously, his vision is restored.  Both hands reach up to press on his eyelids and sure enough, his eyes are healed.  Blinking to rid himself of the tears, Castiel slowly lowers his hands.  There, standing in front of him, is a very anxious looking Dean.

“Cas?”

A wealth of emotions cross the angel’s face before he pulls the hunter in towards him and crushes their lips together, muttering, “Please be real.”

“I’m real, baby, I promise.”  Dean pulls him in closer, whispering softly against his lips, “I’m so glad we found you.  I thought I’d lost you forever.  You know I can’t live without you, Feathers.”

“Uhhh…Guys, as touching as this reunion is, there’s strange person coming this way.”

Castiel and Dean at the same time, but it’s the angel who speaks, “You!”

Baphomet grins and nods, “Yes, me.  Did you enjoy your stay in Abaddon, Castiel?”

Dean starts towards the androgynous figure, shotgun raised, but Cas pulls him back, moving in front of his charge.  “All this…it wasn’t real?  It was what, a test?”

“Oh it was real enough, Castiel.  Time passes quicker here, but you did suffer through all those trials and come out a better, more enlightened being.”

It’s the older brother that asks the question, “Who are you?” 

“Castiel, would you care to do the honors?”  The brunette figure cocks its head and holds out both arms to its sides, bowing slightly.  The right hand lifts to point index and middle fingers upwards, its mate aiming those same fingers down towards the concrete floor.

“This is Baphomet and apparently, we’re in Abaddon.”

The silence that accompanies that declaration is absolute.  “How many days was I gone?”

The once cruel and mocking voice is patient, “An earthly week, Castiel, but to you it seemed much longer.  In your mind, you were trapped here for closer to seven months.  Each person deals with his or her trials differently and for some reason, you chose to feel the passage of much more time.  Perhaps you needed to feel like you-”

“Wait…hold on, I thought Baphomet was-” 

Sam’s voice is skeptical and the deity interrupts curtly, “A breasted, male, horned, goat-headed figure with wings?  Yes, well…times change.  Besides, I happen to like my current incarnation.”  Delicate fingers smooth down the lapels of the tailored three-piece suit.

“All right, introductions done…is he free to go?”  Dean’s voice is annoyed, a hand moving to curl around Castiel’s wrist.

The deity smirks and looks at Castiel, whispering conspiratorially, “I like him.  No wonder you’re in love.”  In a louder voice, Baphomet responds to Dean’s question, “Yes, Winchester, the Angel is free to go.”

“In that case, we’re just going to go out that way,” Dean points towards the door, pulling Cas along with him as he backs out of the room.  “Don’t move until we’re gone, understood?”

Baphomet smirks, gives a jaunty salute and in a puff of smoke, is gone.  Echoing laughter filling the room as the three men move towards the end of the corridor and towards the exit.

~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~


End file.
